


Out Of Time

by 7sendra



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magic!Stiles, Rating May Change, Violence, idk - Freeform, ill try my best
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-06
Updated: 2014-08-03
Packaged: 2018-01-11 09:35:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1171506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/7sendra/pseuds/7sendra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is a Mage and he's not dealing with it too well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Stilinski!” Coach’s voice stopped him dead. Stiles had tried to sneak in while Coach was writing on the board. “You do know that school has already started, don’t you? Thirty minutes ago!”  
“Yeah, Coach. Sorry. I just got kind of…umm….side tracked.”  
“Oh, oh I see.” Coach stepped forward and crossed his arms over his chest seeming relaxed. Stiles knew better. “So you thought something else was more import-”  
Stiles attention was shifted from the lectured being verbally hauled at him to something just over Coach’s left shoulder. Something through the window. There was something there. Something big and… vacant. The air had a slight gleam to it, a shimmer. It made Stile’s skin crawl just looking at it. Like a big ball of shimmering air hovering about a foot off the ground.  
“Stilinski!” Coach’s voice stabbed through his trance. His momentary flicker of concerntration caused the bubble of air to almost…pop. Rubbing his eyes, he looked back at a rather stressed out and unamused Coach. “For God’s sake kid! Just…sit down! Your homework is doubled. For a week.”  
Stiles couldn’t bring himself to care. He walked to his desk on stiff legs that seemed to work on an automatic setting. Something about that bubble of air unnerved him. Something didn’t sit right. It was too close, way too close to-  
“Hey! You ok man?” Scott’s concerned voice pulled him back to himself. He sucked in a huge breath before puffing his cheeks and replying.  
“Yeah, yeah I’m cool. I just… I’m peachy. Well apart for double homework. Dude Coach really knows how to punish.”  
Scott’s worried eyes and tense mouth did nothing to convince Stiles this conversation was over. Even when he said “Yeah… yeah he really does.”

  
 _“Holy shit. HOLY SHIT!” Stiles fumbled with his phone, his thumbs frantically flying over the keyboard in a desperate haze. His thumb halted, however, over the send button when he saw what time it was. 4:30 am. He couldn’t wake Scott up for this. Scott would just get pissed and hang up, brushing it off as a joke. Especially with his make-up Chem text tomorrow. But Stiles was panicking. Big Time. Ok who could he call? Allison? No her dad would freak. Lydia? She’d do the same as Scott double the sass. Isaac? Yeah…no. Stiles sat there, feeling shitty and desperate when he scrolled past Derek’s nam. His thumb hovered over his name for probably the better half of 20 minuted while he tossed around some pros and cons._  
 _Pro: Derek would probably know what to do. And if he didn’t, he would know someone. He could do something with the information Stiles had found._  
 _Con: Derek would probably eat him if he woke him up at 4:30am to tell him something Derek would take as a practical joke._  
 _Con: Stiles has a major crush on Derek and the thought of actually talking to him in private is kind of freaking him out. A lot. More so that the gay freak out, which was a…surprise. Stiles is also pretty sure that Derek hates his guts. Every time they’re in the same room together Derek gets this stormy expression on his face and looks away. It’s kind of disheartening. But then again, if he learnt anything from Lydia, it’s perseverance and stubbornness._  
 _Stiles glances back at his computer screen, the multiple books scattered around him, and the item in his hand and makes up his mind. A horrible, stupid, impulsive crazy idea but he does it and promptly begins to freak the fuck out while listening to the ringing in the phone._  
 _After 4 rings, Derek answers. “What do you want Stiles?” Derek sounds tired. And pissed. Stiles heart speeds up in about naught to one second and he’s verbally vomiting into the phone._  
 _“Ok I know it’s early but hear me out ok I’ve been looking into the-”_  
 _“Stiles, couldn’t this wait until morning? It’s- Christ- it’s four fucking thirty!”_  
 _“Yeah I know but just list-”_  
 _“IN THE MORNING STILES!”_  
 _Stiles breathes deep and confesses. “I think there are mages in Beacon Hills Derek. And not the nice kind either. The kind that can cut off your arm and then disable the healing process on a warewolf.” The line is quiet for so long Stiles thinks Derek has hung up thinking Stiles is yanking his chain. Then he hears,_  
 _“I’ll be over in 5” before the line goes dead._

 

“Scott! Hey so I really need you to not go into the forest this afternoon, or tonight for that matter. Just, don’t go into the woods for a bit ok?” Stiles’ chest ached. He had been worrying himself sick over this. He hadn’t been able to sleep at all even when Derek had practically ordered him into bed (yeah, that had gone down slightly differently in Stiles’ fantasies).  
“Okay? Are you going to tell me why?” Scott didn’t look suspicious, or worried, or even slightly phased by it at all. In fact, he wasn’t even looking at Stiles at all. Kiera had chosen the perfect time to stroll on by and smile all cutely at the floor.  
“Scott! I really need you to do this for me okay?”  
“Yeah, yeah sure whatever dude. I’ll see you after school,” was Scott’s only reply before he patted his best friend on the chest and chased after his Kitsune. Stiles was left with words stuck in his throat, unable to move past his lips. His chest was tightening again and his hands began to shake.  
No no no no no no no  
Not now.  
Not here  
Anywhere but here.  
They’d stopped for so long he thought they were gone. After that time with Lydia, he thought that was it that was the end. Apparently, Stiles had a lot to learn. He needed something to distance himself from his thoughts, swirling around faster and faster forming impossible ideas he was fooling himself into thinking were true. His eyes searched frantically around the corridor until they landed on Ethan. It wasn’t the best but it should work…for a bit.  
“Ethan! Hey listen I need you to keep an eye on Scott for a bit.”  
“Stiles, we already are.” Ethan’s eyes narrowed suspiciously at Stiles. “Is everything ok? Is there something else we need to-”  
“No! No no I’m just paranoid about Scott being close to Keira and getting hurt because of her and I know those weird demon-y things can only come out at night but there’s still a weird possi-”  
“Stiles! Slow down ok. I know you’re worried but leave it to us, yeah? We don’t want Scott getting hurt any more than you do so let’s just work together and we’ll get along fine.”  
Stiles barely had enough time to give him a curt nod before he was rushing toward the exit gasping for air.


	2. Chapter 2

Stiles had gotten panic attacks before. Loads of them. This one, however, he had no idea how to handle. Everything he thought he was: skinny, defenceless full to the brim with sarcasm normal teenage boy stiles, was gone. He was supposed to be the normal one! The one to keep all the werewolves and wailing women grounded! But if he was doing the grounding, who was there to ground him? His first thought was Scott. Practically his brother and his best friend. He could, and would, confide anything in Scott.  
Stiles stumbled around behind the back of the furthest classroom on school grounds, an old un-used science lab, and sank into the cool dirt near the edge of the forest. His chest ached with the need for air and his hands trembled uncontrollably. Scott was his brother and that means they would die for one another. But right now, stiles needed someone not just to ground him, but to distract him. His fogged up and panic stricken thoughts swirled to Lydia. Sweet, beautiful, cold, calculating, enticing Lydia. His love for her was far from a secret but somehow, he’d seen past it and now he sees Lyds as a ‘banter buddy’. Someone you can banter with on an equal playing field because your IQ is pretty much identical. Ok maybe hers was a little higher.  
Stiles chocked on a half laugh – half sob as the thoughts of Lydia began to give way to other, darker things.  
…Loss of control…dire consequences…limited time…damage control…matured age of 16….dealt with.  
Stiles screamed. This couldn’t be happening. He could feel his chest crushing inwards and his breathing became panic and laboured, his sobs frantic, tears streaked down his cheeks as he curled into the foetal position.  
Suddenly, someone was there, pulling him up with a rough hand on each of his biceps. Stiles scrunched his eyes together and tried to suck in another desperate breath. The stranger had him upright now with his back against the brick wall of the class room. They were shaking him, trying to get him to focus.  
“Stiles!” That voice. Rough but not dangerous. Stiles opened his eyes, slowly, and saw none other than Derek Hale crouched in front of him, worry etched over his naturally broody face. The busy thoughts began to settle in his mind and his anxiety started to ebb away with the warm touch of Derek’s hands on his arms. Stiles sucked in a breath as Derek began moving his hands soothingly over stiles arms. Derek was murmuring something under his breath but all Stiles could do was focus on the fact that he could breathe again, that his hands had stopped shaking. He didn’t need to know what Derek was saying for it to work. The soothing tone and the solidity of his voice was enough to bring stiles back. To ground him.  
He made a small noise in the back of his throat as Derek’s hands slipped away from his arms. He looked up, alarmed, at a smiling Derek who said, “Don’t worry Stiles, I’m not leaving” before turning himself around and sitting next to Stiles against the wall. He could fee Derek’s warmth next to him but it wasn’t enough. Stiles didn’t want to relapse so quickly so he grabbed Derek’s wrist and focused on breathing. Sometime later, he lessened his vice grip on Derek’s arm with an apologetic look and took his hand back.  
“You wanna tell me what that was about?” Derek didn’t sound mad, only curious and somewhat concerned. Stiles looked at him. A small tremble still running through his hands and chest.  
“I…found out something. Last night after you left.”  
“…and?”  
“And I think…I mean I don’t know but I think I might not be-” Stiles couldn’t get it out. The words wouldn’t move past his lips. Instead, he dug into his pocket and pulled up the article he’d saved last night.  
He scanned Derek’s face as he read the screen and waited for his reaction. A reaction which…he was not entirely expecting. “Stiles, you’re not a mage.”  
“You don’t know that!”  
“Yes, I do.” Derek’s cool blue eyes held a hint of amusement in them as he handed Stiles back his phone. Stiles stared back at him defiantly, suddenly willing to somehow justify his massive freak-out.  
“Do you remember last week end? When we went to investigate that nest of vampires?” He waited until Derek nodded, a hint of curiosity lining his movements. “It says here that a mage can emit some kind of…repellent? Against certain mythical creatures and vampires just so happen to be on that list!”  
“Stiles this isn’t proving anything-”  
“Derek, I waltzed on in there with no idea how to fight, no supernatural abilities to back me up armed with a baseball bat! I was an easy meal and yet here I am! I was completely on my own in the middle of a room with no back up but my crappy bat and not one of those things touched me! If I really was only human they would have been able to smell me, hear my heart beating a shit ton faster than normal and realised Christmas had come early!” Stiles chest heaved with each exhausted breath. He sagged against the brick wall as Derek studied him closely. “I’m freaking the fuck out Derek because it makes sense. Other things, other instances where I should be dead are suddenly coming back to me and it all just clicks into place.”  
“Your scent has always been a bit different.”  
“What?” Stiles turned to look at Derek’s now concerned eyes.  
“Your scent. There was always something that set you apart from other humans but I just thought that was because…” Derek trailed off mid-sentence and looked at his hands. Abruptly, he cleared his throat and stood.  
“Because what…?”  
“Never mind.” Derek extended a hand toward him, “You should get back to class. Actually no, you need to get some sleep.”

~~~

Stiles felt like his head was going to explode. His eyes were trained and focused on a singular paperclip. His breath was caught in his throat as he concentrated everything on that one paper clip. After he felt like the lack of oxygen getting to his brain was going to make him pass out, he dropped the stare and heaved out his chest to drag in another frustrated gulp of air. He had to get this. He had to. If he really was a mage, he had very little time to learn and practice using his abilities before he so called ‘flamed out’.  
‘Flaming out’ is what happens when a mage comes of age (16) and has not been taught how to release the talent inside them. After they hit 16, this talent or raw energy begins to build up and unless it’s released or taken control of, it could burst out at unpredictable times. The scariest part was that you had no way to gauge how much would actually come out and what kind of damage it could do. For example, you could drop a glass and get frustrated enough that you burn the house down because you can’t control your ‘outbursts’ of talent.  
So Stiles had to get this. Not just to stop this energy inside him from killing himself but also his friends and his dad. And to stop the house getting burnt down from a broken glass.  
Stiles resumed his intense gaze at the paperclip and focused all his energy on making it move. Just a tiny bit, just a teeny tiny little budge…  
“Keep going and at that rate you’ll have an aneurism before 9:00 o’clock.”  
Stiles sagged over and let out a frustrated sigh. “Well I wouldn’t need to if you’d just shut up for a minute!”  
“Stiles, Its been three hours since I sent you home…”  
“Wait, you haven’t been here the whole time? But you were right over…” Stiles brow furrowed in confusion. He’d heard Derek, constantly, chattering and slipping in snide remarks whenever he looked like he was about to pass out. He’d broken his concentration on numerous occasions. Hadn’t he? “Never mind. Why are you here now anyway?”  
Derek paused to look suspiciously at him for a second before answering. “I came to see if you hadn’t…freaked out again. And to see if you were actually resting. Wishful thinking I guess” Derek made his way over to the desk chair opposite to where stiles was cross-legged on the bed and flopped himself into it.  
“Okay… where’s Scott?”  
“What?  
“Well, I just assumed you’d told him. You guys being like ‘wolf-kin’ and all.” Stiles looked down at his hands, absentmindedly fiddling with the paperclip. He hadn’t told Scott because he didn’t want him to worry, however, he’d known there was a possibility of Scott finding out because Derek and he shared everything.  
“You didn’t want me to. So I didn’t.”  
“I never said…”  
“You didn’t have to. If you wanted me to tell Scott, or if you wanted Scott to know, he’d already know.” Derek was looking at him with an expression that made Stiles spine tingle and his stomach flutter with nerves. He was looking at him like he liked him. That was a big thing for Stiles seeing as he usually got a cold indifferent stare from the sour wolf. Stiles suddenly jerked up from the bed and started pacing.  
Shit could Derek, like, sense that he liked him? Stiles cast a cursory glance at Derek’s puzzled face and shook his head. He was so screwed. “Well, thanks dude. Means a lot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all liked it!


	3. Chapter 3

Stiles felt normal, and that unnerved him. When he’d woken this morning and jumped in a scorching shower to chase the cold from his limbs, he’d expected to feel different somehow, like the revelation that: hey surprise you’re a mage! would change him somehow. Alter him. It didn’t, not even a little. He’d raced downstairs, ate his usual huge breakfast of two pieces of toast, eggs, baked beans and orange juice, grabbed his bag and was on the bus before he’d started to really think about things. After Derek had left yesterday, he hadn’t had much luck with the paper clip. It got to about 3am and Stiles thought he’d seen it move, freaked out and practically passed out from exhaustion approximately 5 minutes later.

 He scrubbed a hand over his bleary eyes and groaned as the bus pulled to a stop in front of Boyd’s house. Stile’s jeep was currently in repairs after he’d hit a pot-hole just a little too quickly. Boyd sauntered up the isle of the bus and, after spotting stiles near the back, made his way toward him.

“Don’t you have a car, Stilinski?”

“Temporarily out of service.”

Boyd nodded his understanding as he sunk into the seat in front of stiles, his back against the window with his head propped up by his bag. Stiles didn’t talk to Boyd much, he mostly kept to Erica and Isaac. It was part of the reason why Stiles shied away from Derek’s house when Scott went over. Even though he had Scott and had built some kind of relationship with the pack, he felt alienated in that environment. Being human made it hard for him to ‘tousle’ without breaking his clavicle so he either sat complacent on the couch or stayed away completely.

Boyd frowned suddenly, wrinkling his nose slightly while leaning towards Stiles and breathing long deep breaths.

“You ok there buddy?”

Boyd’s eyes locked on his, sparkling with curiosity. “You ok Stiles? You don’t...smell right.”

“I changed body wash last week actually.” Boyd’s flat look in response was all Stiles needed to know his quip was not appreciated. “Yeah buddy I’m fine. Just tired that’s all.”

“I know what fatigue smells like Stiles. I’m a beta not a moron.” Boyd paused in thought again, subtly trying to take whiffs of Stiles without full out _smelling_ him. “This is different.”

And then all at once, it was as if the spell was broken. Boyd shrugged, sat back against the window and wriggled himself back into a comfy position. “You should probably ask someone who’s more familiar with your smell. I barely know what you smell like on a good day, so this is probably nothing.”

Stiles was pretty sure that was the longest sentence Boyd had _ever_ said to him so it took him a moment before his brain started clicking over again. It was freaky. It set Stiles on edge and churned his stomach in a way that had him fidgeting for the majority of the day. It was in economics (of course) that things started getting worse.

The unsettled feeling in Stile’s stomach went from nerves to full out nausea. It started with cold sweat breaking out of seemingly every pore in his body and slowly progressed to dizziness, heat waves and his stomach twisting in ways that could _not_ be good for you.

“Stiles! _Stiles!_ Dude what’s going on?!” Scott was hissing at him urgently, concern lacing his words. Stiles squeezed his eyes shut, _willed_ his stomach to calm down. He would NOT give coach the satisfaction of vomiting on a pop quiz. Taking a few deep breaths, Stiles finally opened his eyes causing him to lurch back in his seat. It was as if someone had flicked a super hi-res ‘HD’ switch in his brain. Everything was sharp, crystal clear and vibrant in colour. Everything, everyone, everywhere he looked was so fucking clear and bright! He sat and stared at his hands for what felt like forever until he heard Scott beside him. He was doing what Boyd had done this morning.

“Dude, are you smelling me?” Stiles whipped his head toward Scott, narrowing his eyes as if offended. Big mistake. Everything swirled, tilted and blurred for a moment before the clarity came back. Scott was pale.

“Stiles, you don’t smell like you,” Scott paused, staring at Stile’s face with an expression half way between shock and horror “and you don’t look like you either.”

Fortunately, Stiles was sitting in the row closest to the window with Scott to his left. Turning, slowly this time, toward the window, he stared at his reflection. Staring back at him was Stiles, but he didn’t look like him. His irises were like diamonds, refracting the light around them. They flashed with flecks of green, blue, pink, black, red, orange every time his eyes moved even a fraction. His face was pale, clammy and haunting. He looked wrecked.

Unwilling to look at himself any longer out of fear of passing out, he unfocused his eyes and looked out at the tree line. There, standing alone in the middle of the lacrosse field was a lone figure. He was a tall man with white blonde hair and a long sweeping ash grey coat that seemed to float around his claves. He nodded once at Stiles before abruptly turning on his heels to head toward the change rooms.

Stiles wasted no time. He flung himself out of his chair, ignoring Scott’s shout and Coach’s outrage and burst into the corridor. His vision was still fucked as he staggered along the hall, dragging himself forward on the lockers until finally he rounded the corner to the change rooms.

He didn’t know why or how or when he knew this but he knew it with such clarity that nothing was going to stop him from getting to that man. Not even Allison and her raised crossbow standing between him and the door to the change room. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oooOOOoooohhhh (oh yeah Allison and everyone is still alive in this fic.)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! wow thanks for reading this far. A+  
> Hope you enjoyed it and please feel free to give me feedback of any kind ^.^


End file.
